A moment later, the office door opened, and a tall, dark-haired man in an Armani stepped in. "Mr. Blaine! I hope they gave you a properly grand retirement ceremony!"

Grant grinned. "Douglass! Yes, of course they did. Shut the door and come in. How is the research going?"

Douglass shut the door and walked over to the chair in front of Grant's desk, sitting before he began speaking. "Well, sir, the detectives have been on surveillance for three months now. They feel that is a sufficient length of time to become familiar with the situation. The reports that you've been receiving each week..."

"Yes, yes, I know," Grant said, waving his hands impatiently. "We've been through the reports, I've picked out the ladies. What I want to know is, are the treatments finished?"

Douglass smiled proudly. "Yes, sir. Everything is in place."

"Excellent. Excellent. I've always been able to count on you, Douglass."

"Thank you, sir."

"A good man, a good man."

Douglass stood and smoothed his suit. "Sir, I... we at the corporation, well, sir, we hate to see a man like you retire."

"Well, thank you, Douglass. I like to think I touch a few lives." He thought a second, then chuckled, "Well, I mean in the regular way."

Douglass laughed lightly too. "Ah, good one, sir. Not the treatments, but the regular way. Ha. Sir, we are all going to miss you."

"Thank you again, Douglass, but I want to get out in the world a little bit, enjoy it before I have to leave it. It's time to move on. And I've been separated from my family far too long."

"Well, sir, we at the corporation wanted to see you off with a gift."

"Douglass, I'm touched."

A little hesitantly, Douglass stepped forward and pressed the button on the intercom. "Miss Wilson, step in here, honey."

"Excuse me?! Mr. Blaine, are you there?"

Douglass prompted Mr. Blaine with a nod. "It's all right, Rebecca," Grant told her. "Please do come in for just a moment."

A moment later, twenty-four-year-old Rebecca Wilson stepped into Grant's office, with her ever-ready pad and pencil. Even dressed in a business outfit... a white blouse, a brown tweed skirt, her long dark hair pinned up in a bun... she was quite attractive.

Her cheeks were slightly flushed, however. "Mr. Blaine, I admire you, and I realize that today is your last day. But I resent being called 'honey' and I wish you would implore Mr. Lockhead to correct his chauvinist attitude." She stood stiffly, awaiting the chastisement.

"Mr. Lockhead, of course we no longer refer to administrative assistants as 'honey'."

Rebecca looked down and saw that her skirt was still on. She unfastened the button, and as she lowered it over her hips, she started gasping.

Douglass beamed. "We gave her clitty a hair trigger, sir."

"Douglass! You've outdone yourself."

"Oh! Yes! Yes! Yeeessss!" Her skirt dropped to the floor as she clasped herself, revealing she had also come to work pantiless today. If she were in any condition to do so, she would have been shocked at the brazenness. Instead, she was still in the throes of the biggest fucking orgasm of her life.

Finally, it dulled to a diffuse tingling. Rebecca saw her own juices running down her thighs, and she stood up straight again and covered herself as best she could with her hands. "Ohgod, what's going on? What have you done to me?!"

"Just fixed you up to be Mr. Blaine's retirement gift. You should be proud, baby doll. Now tell Mr. Blaine what you want him to do to you."

"To do to me?!" Her eyes widened. "I don't... I can't... I... do you mean like... like... like I want him to take that goddamn huge pecker of his and jam it into my soft wet, mewling cunnie? Oh fuck, what am I saying?!"

Douglass smiled, "That's a girl."

"Like... I want him to come lick my clittie until it screams, and to push his fingertips up my tight fucking asshole until I beg him to bring me, to make me cum until I'm some senseless bitch whore cunt?"

"She's wonderful, Douglass."

"How do you feel about being called 'honey'?" Douglass asked her, still a little resentful.

"Call me a slut! Just come fuck me! Now!" Her right hand was kneading her own breast, while her left hand was rubbing circles over her lower abdomen, afraid to venture lower lest it set off another set of fireworks.

"Please! I can't do this. I am a college graduate! A professional administrative assistant! I can't do this! It's not proper! This is something a *bimbo* would do!"

"Don't give yourself airs, bitch," Douglass told her. "You're not good enough to be a bimbo. You're just a slut little cunnie."

"Please!"

"Come on."

"Please!"

Douglass just looked at her.

"A... slut... little... cunnie..."

"And..."

She spun around to face Grant. "And I need your pecker in my slimy little cunt-hole! Please, Mr. Blaine." She sank to her knees and crawled to him, then leered up at him as she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his zipper. "I'll make it feel gooooooood for you, baby. I've wanted you. Sooooo bad. Ever since I brought my tight little bitch ass traipsing in here. I've wanted to tease you, to make you hard for me. Did I make you hard, baby?"

"Never as hard as right now, cunnie."

"Ooooohhhh!" she grinned. "Baby! I'm so soft for you. And wet... lord, I think I'm almost pissing all over my legs. That's what it feels like, lover. Let me suck your prick. Let me suck the juice up out of it! Please!" She nuzzled her face in his crotch.

"Tell him how long you've been waiting for this."

"Oh, Mr. Blaine! You know that I sat in that office out there diddling myself just thinking about you, don't you? Do you have any idea how many times a day I would look at you and soil my panties? Ooohh, sometimes I would have to bring a dozen pairs to work, just so I'd have dry ones to wear after you talked to me and made my cunnie drool! I want to make you feel that good! That hot! Oooohhh, baby!" She had managed to free his cock from his underpants, and she started licking the head now. "Let me make you feel goooooood!"

"Happy retirement, sir. The corporation and I are at your disposal whenever you need us." He started walking toward the door when Grant called him back.

"Douglass, come here. She's fixed for two, isn't she?"

"Sir, this is your retirement. She's fixed for anything you want."

"Then come take her backside while I poke her pussy."

"Really, sir?"

"Of course, Douglass! You're one of... no, you are *the* best person I have in my employ. Come take her ass! It's the least I can do." He pulled a jar of Vaseline out of one of the boxes and handed it to Douglass.

Douglass grinned. "Thank you, sir! It will be good to ream the little tight-ass some manners. 'Chauvinist', indeed!"

Douglass stripped, then took one of Rebecca's ass cheeks in each hand and guided the submissive girl until her pussy was positioned right in front of Grant's cock.

"Shall we do her simultaneously, Douglass?"

Douglass grinned.

Then Becky came. And came again. And again. And again and again and again...

***

Davy Phillips stood with his mother by the airport terminal window as they watched the plane land. It had been a while since he had been up in the air himself... not since that time ten years ago when his whole family had flown to Boston to see Grandpa Blaine. That was the Christmas when Grandpa and his mother had gotten into such a big fight, and they hadn't seen him since.

Now he was coming to live with them. Davy had helped his mother clear out the sewing room and install a bed in there so that Grandpa would be comfortable.

The plane taxied around and approached the terminal.

Davy wasn't sure how this was all going to work out. He had barely seen his grandfather as he grew up. And all he could remember was the yelling when mom would fight with him. When they flew up for Grandma's funeral... Davy was eight at the time... Mom even slapped Grandpa. Davy had been playing in the other room when he heard it, then the silence that followed it. Then Mom came in, took him by the hand up the stairs, and they packed and left.

Now that Grandpa was retiring, they were all supposed to live together without any yelling? Davy looked at his mother. She was stiff, tense. Then he looked back out the window. He gave it six months, tops, before Grandpa walked out. And Davy didn't really care one way or the other about Grandpa coming to live with them... he didn't really know him well enough to like him or hate him... but it just seemed such a waste to change the house and their lives when Grandpa would be going away again in just a few months.

The passengers were beginning to unboard into the terminal, and Davy and his mother watched for her father. He was one of the first off, having ridden in first class.

Daphne Blaine-Phillips walked up and stood eye to eye with her father. "Daddy," she said quietly.

"Daphne. How have you been?"

She nodded her head. "Good, Daddy. And you? How do you like retirement?"

Grant smiled for a moment, then nodded. "It's... good. Different. It'll take some getting used to. No more rising early in the morning. No more million dollar deals. It's... different."

"You'll get used to it. You just have to find other interests."

"Aren't you right. And is this young buck here my grandson? Good lord, last I saw you, you came up just past my waist. And what a build! You play football, boy?"

"Soccer, Grandpa. At the college."

"Well, give me a hug, boy. You're already making the Blaine line proud." The two hugged. "I'll bet you have a flock of young fillies following you around."

Davy smiled. "I only wish, Grandpa."

"You will, you will, boy. You're a Blaine."

"Daddy, leave him alone. That caveman-and-jane stuff went out a generation ago. And good riddance."

"I was just teasing him, Daffy."

"Don't, Daddy."

Grant made a face. "It doesn't mean anything. It's just my way of saying I love you."

"I do *not* like that name, Daddy."

"Okay." Grant nodded, his voice strained. "I'll be living under your roof, I'll call you however you want to be called. If you want to be called the 'Royal Queen of England', I'll call you that. Anything for peace, right?"

"Uhm," Davy interrupted. "It looks like the bags are starting to come out over there. We may want to wander over and get them."

Father and daughter stared at one another a moment before Daphne responded. "Yes, let's."

They located Grant's bags, and Davy carried them as they walked to the car. Grandpa was asking him what he was majoring in... Business Admin... and where he planned to work after he graduated... he wasn't sure yet.

"Don't pressure him, Daddy."

"Honey, I'm just curious. I mean, what's the boy going to do without some type of plan, just lay around the house a couple of years? If you don't have a plan, Davy, you haven't got focus. And that's what the whole nation lacks right now. Everybody's sitting around whining, 'Tell us what to do.' They need a leader, a Blaine, to come around and inform them what..."

"Well, Dad, you've just got a solution for all the ills that ail us, don't you?"

"I can't help it, it's true. You need goals in order to make something of yourself."

"Dad, I'm not going to let you push him like you pushed me."

"I never pushed you to anything, Daphne! You wouldn't let me. If I said go, you came to a halt. If I said..."

"Dad! You're pushing me right now!"

"Listen to her, boy! She's crazy. Crazy that she might do something that someone suggested she do. You know the reason she got herself knocked up at seventeen, don't you? She was trying to spite me!"

Daphne gasped. "Daddy! For gods sakes!"

"She even..." Grant froze a moment, then sighed slowly. "You're right, Daphne. I am a bossy sonofabitch. And I can't do that anymore, can I? Not while I'll be living under your roof. I apologize. And David, I apologize to you too. I shouldn't be maligning your mother or ruining all of our afternoon."

Daphne opened and then shut her mouth twice, unable to come up with anything to say. Finally, "Are you my father? Or did we grab the wrong passenger by mistake?"

Grant grinned and started walking again. "It's the new me, Daphne. We both have to change if we're going to be living together. But I'm going to have to change the most." He chuckled. "I'm going to have to transform from a reptile back into a human."

"I... I don't know what to say, Daddy."

"Uhm..." This was Davy. Father and daughter turned around to see him about six paces behind them. "The car's back here, guys."

She opened the trunk and they deposited the luggage there. Then Davy drove the three of them home to start a new life together.

***

The four women sat in Daphne's living room, supposedly planning events for the PTA fundraiser, but other, more interesting, topics kept coming up.

Caroline, a gorgeous redhead, was sitting back on the couch, wearing a pink bikini top and a wraparound skirt. She got a naughty look in her eye and asked, "So now that you've had two weeks, how is this 'Dr Lizardo', as Amy likes to call him?"

Daphne sighed. "Well, I suppose he's trying, but he's still the same old Daddy."

"Always will be, if you ask me," Amy responded. "That dried old goat is so stubborn that he could win a game of blinks against the devil."

"He is trying, though," Daphne said.

"Honey, you're deluded. I've known the man since you and I played with dolls in your playroom. He'll never change. He doesn't want to. He thinks he's perfect just like he is. He's just trying a new approach to bullying you. That's all."

Daphne sighed. "I don't know, Amy. I think he *is* trying to do better. But he does seem to still boss everyone just as much as he ever did. Maybe more politely, but still just as much."

"How is Clark taking it?" Sarah Milsford asked. She was a schoolteacher, with a pretty, straight nose and brown hair that reached down to her waist.

Daphne blushed. "Clark and I discussed Daddy coming to live with us for a long time."

"...and he said he'd do anything his little daisy wanted, right?"

Daphne tried to suppress a smile, but it burst forth anyways. "Yes, that's exactly what he said, Amy."

"Of course. And that's why he's going to be useless when you have it out with the old man."

"You don't think there's any way for us to live together, then, Amy?"

"Sure, if you throw away who you are and become his personal robot. Short of that, no. He is a dominating old geezer that wants to control everyone and everything."

A bleak silence hovered for a few moments, then Sarah, the schoolteacher, stood and said she had to be going. Amy started packing her things up as well, needing to meet her husband before dinner.

Caroline stood and fluffed the pillows on the couch. "I've got the whole afternoon free, I'm afraid. You and I could keep on working if you want, Daphne. In fact..." she grinned mischievously. "If you want to, we could lie around your pool and get an early start on our tans at the same time."

"Sure, I think I could use a little fresh air and sunlight right now."

"Great!" She unwrapped her skirt to reveal a pink bikini bottom to match the bra. "I'll get us two lemonades out of the refrigerator while you change. Meet you out there."

It was a very warm spring day, one of the days that previews summer's coming, so Caroline filled the lemonade glasses with a lot of ice, then headed outside. Davy was already there, sunning himself in one of the lawn chairs.

"Hello, Mrs. McLure."

"Hi, Davy. How's the water?"

"Probably warm. I haven't been in it yet, though."

"Well, I think I'm going to wade in for a few minutes."

Davy admired her figure as she walked to the steps, then down into the water. She was almost his mom's age and married, but, boy, was she a looker. The sun made her red hair glisten with highlights.

"She's a beaut, isn't she son?"

Davy jumped, startled. "Grandpa! Uhm, what do you mean?"

"The red-headed tart. Of course you were looking at her. Something would be wrong with you if you didn't. Besides, why do you think she's wearing that hot pink scrap of cloth? She wants men to look at her."

"Mrs. McLure? But she's married."

"Sure, but the guy isn't man enough to keep her. If he was, she wouldn't be traipsing around like that, advertising for some man that *could* keep her happy."

"Trust me, boy. We're both Blaines, and if there's one thing Blaines know how to do, it's handle women."

David shook his head slightly, watching the pretty woman float about on her back while she waited for his mother to join her.

Grant clasped David's shoulder from behind. "You just keep an eye on that pretty redhead... just observe her real closely for a while... you'll see. Underneath, she's a hot little snatch." Then he walked around to the steps of the pool. "How's the water, little filly?"

Caroline had been floating on her back, relaxing, but she leaned forward to stand up. "Oh, Mr. Blaine. It's fine... feels wonderful, actually."

"That's no problem. Anyway, I was noticing your swimming technique a minute ago. If your ego isn't too fragile, I could give you a couple small pointers. If you'd be interested, that is."

She looked at him a moment before answering. "Sure. Alright."

Grant waded over to her. "Okay, turn around this way." He ran his hand over her right hip, cupping the cheek. "This bikini is made out of a really nice fabric."

"Uhh, thanks," she said, gently pushing his hand away from her buttocks.

"Right. Back to swimming lessons. Okay, I'm going to place one forearm across the front of your thighs here, and the other forearm across your abdomen here. Then you lean forward into the water. Good, like that. Now, I'll hold you in place this way while you demonstrate how you normally swim."

Caroline lowered her face into the water and began paddling with her arms. Grant pulled her midsection up several inches, looked at Davy to make sure he was watching, then stuck his tongue out and went through exaggerated motions as though he were going to lick her ass.

Caroline stopped paddling and stood up. "How was that?"

"*Pretty* good. But did you notice all the wasted movement in your arm motions? That will tire you out in no time, wasting all your energy in splashing. Here, let me show you." He turned her until he stood behind her, then raised her left arm with his left. "Now, when you are pulling back with this arm, you should feel the muscles contract here." He placed his right hand over her left breast to indicate the location.

"Go ahead and pull your arm back while focusing on the muscles in this area."

She hesitantly moved her arm and Grant cupped the breast.

"Feel that?" he breathed.

"Uhm, yes," she said, giggling nervously, using her right hand to pull his away from her breast. "I think... I think I've got it, Mr. Blaine."

"Good! Splendid! Now one more exercise. Give me your wedding ring."

"My ring?" She asked, cocking her head and twisting the ring around her finger.

"Yes, your ring."

"Uhmmm," She pulled the ring off and handed it over. "Here you go."

Grant took it and tossed it towards the deep end of the pool. "This exercise teaches submersive techniques... it's hard to paddle your way to the bottom of the pool... as well as techniques of cooperation."

"Submersive."

"Come, Caroline." He led her along the ledge of the pool to the deep end. "Now your job is to get the ring. But the water here is deeper than you are tall, so you're going to have to paddle hard."

"But..."

"Now, I'm willing to help you," he whispered. "Every time you give Grant's little soldier a few tugs, I'll give you a little push from up here to help you get a little lower."

"Grant's little..."

"You know what I'm talking about, Caroline."

She just stared at him a moment, shocked, then repulsed. "Yes," she sighed finally. "Yes, I do."

"Good. Then let's play 'retrieve the ring.'"

"But..."

"It's the only way you are going to retrieve the ring. And what would your husband say if you came home without it?"

Blushing crimson, Caroline pushed her hand into Grant's swim trunks and began fondling him. After a moment, she started to withdraw her hand, but Grant said, "The first time costs extra." Her hand went back into the trunks and began rubbing him again.

"Enough?" she whispered flatly after a few moments.

"That'll do," he smiled. "Okay, go down head first, and I'll push a little from up here."

Caroline's head disappeared beneath the surface, and as her legs rose up, Grant put his hand between them at the crotch and began squeezing, not pushing her down at all. Caroline paddled strenuously, but couldn't get deep enough to retrieve the ring. Finally, she broke the surface, panting.

"I can't do it. I just can't do it," she panted, catching her breath. "Please, Mr. Blaine. Please get my ring for me. I just can't."

"'Mister'?"

"Please, Grant. Do me this favor." She smiled shyly. "I'll let you rub me a little more. I know you like that."

"Rub you?"

"Yeah," she smiled, taking his hand and putting it against her crotch.

"You're a pretty horny woman, Miss Caroline."

She shook her head. "I don't know... what... it is about you. I'm not usually like this. I mean, I have *never* been unfaithful."

"You say this with my hand between you legs."

"Ohgod, I know. I don't know what's happening to me this afternoon."

"You'll let me put my finger up your hole?"

She looked at him. "In return for getting my ring?" She swallowed. He just stared at her intently. "Yes," she whispered.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I'll let you stick your finger up my pussy hole, Grant."

Grant's fingers deftly moved the thin strip of material out of the way, then two of them slid up inside her. She started breathing heavily again, and not at all from her dive a few moments ago.

"You're such a red-headed slut."

"Please don't. Don't call me names."

"Okay, Caroline. Then you can do it. Tell me that you're my little cunt, and I'll dive for your ring."

"Please, Grant. Just rub me a little more instead."

Grant continued to manipulate his fingers in her pussy. It was several moments before she realized he was content to continue doing that and did not intend to dive until she told him what he wanted to hear.

"As you wish." Grant bent double at the waist, his head disappearing and his feet rising straight up. Then the feet sank as he did, he kicked a couple times, then he reappeared with the ring.

"My ring!" she said quietly, clapping her hands. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, her tongue slipping into his mouth, bewildering her at her own wantonness. "Thank you." She held her hand out.

"Not yet. A trade."

"A what?"

"A trade. Give me your bikini bottoms, and I'll give you the ring I just worked so hard at retrieving."

"My what?! C'mon," she said, moving her hand lightly over his crotch. "Just cop a few more feels off me, okay? Give me my ring, please?"

Grant just floated there, smiling, as she fondled him.

"Don't I turn you on?" she whispered, smiling and drawing her shoulders back.

Grant just continued smiling.

"Bastard!" She untied the strings on each hip and handed him the small piece of pink cloth. "Now give me my ring!"

Grant held up the ring, but when Caroline reached for it, he shook his head. He reached beneath the water and placed the ring just inside her cunt lips.

After a moment, she retrieved the ring and put it back on her finger. Then she licked her lips. "Thank you for getting my ring," she said finally.

Grant nodded.

"When are you going to give me back my bikini?"

Grant smiled and began swimming away, her bikini tucked safely away in his briefs.

"Grant! Please!" she called after him.

"Please what?" Daphne asked from the patio table by the pool, where she was setting down the papers they were to work on.

"Oh, nothing," she said, glaring at him while he laughed. She made her way along the side of the pool to the shallow point nearest the table, careful to keep her pelvis well below the water and, hopefully, hidden.

"Come on out and we'll get started," Daphne told her.

"No, the water just feels so good today that I'd like to float here a few more minutes. I can do just as good a job from here."

"Suit yourself." She sat down, put on her glasses and pulled out two papers.

Grant swam over behind Caroline. "So what are you two young ladies working so hard on?"

"It's plans for a fundraiser, Daddy."

"Don't tell me. A bake-off, right? Listen to an old financial pro. Put a little more imagination into it and give the public what they want. Why, a kissing booth with this red-headed lovely right here would earn you more than any bake-off."

"Daddy!" She looked at Caroline, who was fidgeting quite a bit. "Caroline, I apologize. I... are you okay?"

"Yes!" she almost shrieked, still fidgeting. "I mean, yes, I'm fine."

"Caroline, this isn't going to work out. Daddy, we appreciate your advice, but we would like to work this out on our own. Caroline, come sit up here so that my father does not feel the constant need to interrupt us."

"Daphne... I can't."

"Caroline, don't be silly. Come on and let's get to work."

"Please, Daphne. I can't..."

Daphne stood, concerned. "Caroline, are you okay? Is something wrong?"

The redhead muttered something.

"What?"

"Your father has my bikini bottoms," she said a little louder, her face cast down.

Daphne stood, frozen.

After several moments, Caroline looked up at her. "I said, your father has..."

"I heard what you said! I don't believe this!"

"Believe it, Daffy-Bear!" Grant said, reaching into his briefs with his left hand. He pulled out the hot-pink cloth and threw it to Daphne's feet.

"Good lord! I do not believe this! What the *hell* are...!!" She caught herself and took several deep breaths. "Caroline," she said in a threatening voice, "Get out here, away from my father, now!"

Caroline looked down again. "I can't," she muttered.

"Why is that?!"

"Daphne, your..." she looked down again and shuddered.

"Caroline!"

"Daphne, your father has his finger up my asshole! I tried to stop him! But he was just so insistent! He's got the damn thing in up to the second knuckle now, and..."

"Caroline! Stop it! Daddy! How could you?!"

"Daphne," Grant spoke up, "We're two consenting adults. And your red-headed friend here is such a hot little piece of ass, that... well, here, I'll show you." With that, he began walking toward the steps of the pool, steering Caroline in front of him, directing her by moving his finger around in her ass in the direction he wanted her to go.

"Grant! Please!" Caroline squealed as he pushed her up the steps, exposing her pelvis from the water. "Her son is still there!"

"Ohgod!" Daphne muttered and spun around. "David! In the house now!"

The boy simply sat there, staring as Mrs. McLure's bare ass rose up out of the water, his grandfather's hand behind it.

"David!" she called, marching up to him. "In the house! Now!"

David got his feet to moving, his mother pushing his back from behind. Grandpa had Mrs. McLure all the way out of the water now and was bringing her around the corner of the pool, still steering her with his finger up her anus.

"Davy," he called as the boy walked by, wide-eyed. "She's a real red-head."

"I see, Grandpa. I see."

"Daddy, I...!!" Daphne clenched her fists and continued pushing her son towards the house.

***

An hour later, Grant and Caroline wandered into the house.

Daphne was sitting at the kitchen table, drumming her fingers on it loudly. "Get out," she ordered them calmly.

"Daphne, I am so sorry," Caroline said, crimson-faced. "I don't know what in the world came..."

"I don't care. Get out of my house. Do not come back. Ever."

Caroline looked pleadingly at her, but Daphne continued staring at the table. Finally, Caroline took her purse and left.

"Daffy-Bear..."

"Do not call me that."

"Sweetie-Dear..."

"My name is Daphne, father." She looked up from the table to meet his eyes. "This is my house. *My* house. While you are living in my house, there are rules that you will follow. Remember that little saying, Daddy? It's still true now that our roles are reversed. What happened today will never happen again. Not ever. Understood?"

"As you wish, dear."

"My son was..." her voice started to raise, and she caught herself. "I am too angry to talk about this," she said after a moment. "Do not mistake, however. We *will* talk about it. Long and hard. And about the rules around here." She paused, breathing heavily with anger. "Now, I do not want to see your face for several hours, Daddy."

"As you wish, dear. I'll be in my room."

Grant trekked back to his room and shut the door. He had insisted on having a second phone line installed after he arrived and was grateful of that now, as he picked up the receiver and dialed.

"Douglass! Fine, fine! No, really, everything is fine. I just wanted to call and tell you that I've finally made up my mind about that last subject. Yes, you figured right, then. I *am* going to want to plug that one. Yes, as soon as you could get on it.

"Thank you, Douglass. I can always count on you."

***

The next morning, after David had left for school... Daphne was going to need to talk with him about what happened yesterday... the doorbell rang. Daphne checked out the window, and saw a brown van... probably a package delivery.

"Yes?" she asked as she opened the door.

"Mrs. Blaine?"

"Yes..." She felt an aerosol mist cover her face, and she backed away from the door.

"Easy, Mrs. Blaine," the man stepped into the house, shut the front door, and tried to calm her.

"What?! What was... ?!"

"Easy. It was just something to help make you a little more compliant."

"But..."

"Is anyone else in the house, Mrs. Blaine?"

"I can answer that," Grant said from the bottom of the stairs. "I'm the only other one."

The man stood to attention. "Mr. Blaine."

"Daddy," Daphne said, trying to wipe her face, "Who is this man? What was I sprayed with?"

"Easy, Daffy. He's just a man trying to do his job. Now keep your mouth shut while he does what he has to." He turned to look at the man and nodded. "Hello, Bradford. Think you can have her back by nine?"

"That seems reasonable, sir."

"Good, then get back to work. I don't want to keep you."

"Yes, sir."

***

It was nine-thirty, and David was sitting at the kitchen table, holding a novel in his hands, but not making much progress reading it. Grandpa had said that his mother had gone out shopping with a friend, but it wasn't like her to stay out this late.

His father had called from work, concerned, and David was angry at him. He understood that his father frequently had to work extra hours, but this was David's mother and Clark's wife that was missing. His father should have cancelled work and come home, as far as David was concerned. He was spending even more hours at the office than usual, anyway.

He heard the key in the front door and sprang up.

"Momma!" he said as she stepped in the door. "Where were you?!" he asked as he hugged her.

"Honey, sshh. It's okay. I was just out doing a little shopping."

"But you're never out this late. None of the stores in town are even open past nine o'clock."

"Time just got away from us, David. It's okay. Really. I just have this splitting headache."

"Here," he said, leading her to the kitchen table, "I'll get you some aspirin."

"That's a dear."

"No trouble shopping?" Grant asked.

"No, daddy. I got some good buys."

"That's good. About yesterday and that red-head, honey..."

Daphne held up her hand. "Daddy, please. I'm not up to it. This headache feels like it's about to split my head apart."

"Here you go, Mom," Davy said, handing her two aspirin and a glass of tea.

"Thanks, dear." She put them on her tongue and took a drink. "You're a lifesaver."

"So where'd you go shopping, mom?"

"Oh, all over town, Davy. But I don't feel up to talking about it now. I want to go take a hot bath, then crawl into bed and sleep off this headache."

David nodded. "Sure, mom. You go on up and I'll lock up. Have a good night."

"I'll get the door, Davy," Grant offered. "You go on to bed. You have classes tomorrow morning."

"Thanks, Grandpa. I'll take you up on that. I've been sitting here, worried about Mom all night until I'm exhausted myself."

Grant waited for David to go upstairs, then locked the front door. He stopped by the refrigerator to get a beer, then lifted the telephone receiver and dialed a number.

"Hi. Yes, this is Grant. Okay. I understand. Okay, I just wanted to make sure there were no problems. She was running late. All right, I understand that happens. That's acceptable." He hung up the phone.

Grant turned the lights off and headed upstairs. Stopping by Davy's door, her could hear the steady breathing of sleep... the boy wasn't exaggerating when he said he was exhausted. He walked up the hall to the bathroom, opened the door, and stepped in.

Daphne had been laying in the hot bathwater, soaking with her eyes shut, when she heard the door open and her eyes flew open. "Daddy!" she gasped, snatching desperately for a towel. She managed to get it off the hook and cover herself, still in the bathtub, soaking the towel.

"Daddy! Get out of here!"

Grant chuckled and shut the door. "Honey, we have to talk."

"Daddy, no! Get out of here!"

He took a drink from the beer can and sat down on the toilet lid. "Daffy-Bear, I feel just awful about upsetting you yesterday."

"Daddy, everything is fine. Okay? Is that what you want me to say? Goddamn you! Don't think I don't know what you're doing. This is another power struggle. You want to get your way on this, you want me to just say everything is fine, so you wait until you've got me in a position of disadvantage, then..."

"Daffy-Bear, I would never try to put you in a position of disad..."

"Daddy, when I'm sitting naked in the tub, trying to cover myself with a soaked bath towel while you're sitting there smirking, that has me in a position of disadvantage! And don't think I don't realize you intended all this."

Grant laughed. "I guess you know me pretty well, honey."

"Yes, Daddy, I do."

"So, how about it? Forgive me?"

"Daddy, just leave! We will go over all this tomorrow."

"No," Grant said, pushing. "I have you in a 'position of disadvantage' now, and I'm not leaving until you say you forgive me."

"Daddy!"

Grant leaned back and took another drink of beer.

"I forgive you, Daddy. Happy now?!"

"Delighted, sweetie." He stood. "Just delighted. Can I get you another towel. That one looks positively saturated."

Daphne rolled her eyes and sighed. "Please, just leave. And lock the door behind you since I apparently forgot."

"Of course, dear," he said smiling, locked the door, and left.

Daphne pushed the soaked towel toward the bottom of the bathtub. "Must be this freaking headache," she muttered. "I always lock the door. And if I didn't before, you can bet I will verify it all the time now, you old bastard." She settled back down into the hot water. "Stinking old bastard, barging in here like that."

***

Sarah looked up from the poster-board that she was trying to turn into a sign for the fundraiser, and studied Daphne across the table. They were in Daphne's kitchen, and Sarah was concerned that her friend was so quiet today.

"Caroline said to tell you again that she is sorry."

"Well, she can stuff it," Daphne said, without looking up from her own sign.

"What happened between you two anyway? Caroline won't talk about it."

"We just had a difference of opinion. A *big* difference of opinion."

"Well," Sarah sighed, "You both seem to be tearing yourselves up over it."

Daphne tossed her magic marker to the middle of the table and leaned back. "It's not really that that has me so worked up."

"I'm biting. What is it, then?"

"Well, it's just... Daddy just seems to be bullying everyone around and still getting his way despite anything I say. And, dammit, this is my house. He needs to be behave himself. David's still living here, impressionable, and Daddy's having a hyperactive mid- life crisis!"

"Boy, he really does have you worked up."

"He's impossible!"

At that moment, they heard a key unlock the front door. Then Grant stepped in with a pretty blonde college girl.

"And I can go my whole life without it, I assure you. Patricia, why don't you run along and stop teasing the old man."

"Don't you try to..." the blonde girl began, but Grant cut her off.

"I've really touched a nerve," Grant said to Sarah.

"It's just silly to see... something... like this," Sarah said, waving her arm at Grant and Patricia.

"You're just jealous because you're too repressed to get a man, Miss Milsford."

"Young lady, you may be..."

"Ladies! Ladies!" Grant bellowed. "Easy, gals. Don't get into a catfight over me. Miss Milsford, you'll get your turn later. And Trish, honey, you'll get to watch. But for now, if you two ladies," he nodded toward the table Daphne and Sarah were sitting at, "Will excuse us. Trish and I are going to go play a little." He put his arm around the giggling girl and led her up the stairs.

"Bastard!" Sarah spat out.

"Do you see how he gets to you?"

"I see, alright. Geez, he's a mean old bastard!"

"And you don't even have to live with him."

"How do you stand it, Daphne?"

"I'm figuring that out now," she said, picking up the marker and starting to work on her sign again.

Sarah just stared at her a few moments, then resumed working on her sign as well.

"Grant! Oh, what are you doing?!" came the high pitch voice from upstairs. "Grant!"

"Bastard!" Sarah muttered.

"Yep," Daphne agreed, still working on her sign.

After a couple minutes, a rhythmic thumping began upstairs.

"Daphne, you do *not* need to put up with this," Sarah said, looking up from her poster-board.

"What else can I do?"

"You do *not* have to suffer being treated this way. You are an adult. So is he. If he doesn't follow your rules, he needs to just start looking for another place to live."

"Oh, Grant, oh! Damn, that feels goooooood!"

"You wouldn't put up with David doing this in your house, would you?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Then why do you put up with it from him?"

"Oh, yes, *yes*, *YES*!! Fuck! YES!"

"I don't... know... I couldn't just..."

"Daphne, you are not... this isn't..." Sarah stopped to get a hold of her anger.

"Oh, not again! Oh! Fuck! Graaaaaaant!"

"Daphne, the consequences of his actions are his fault and his fault alone. If he wears out his welcome, well, that was just something he should have thought of!"

"Oh... oh... yes, Graaaaant... yes..."

"Daphne, he is a slimy old lech. Forgive me, I know he's your father, but he really is."

"I know, I know. But I just can't bring myself to..."

"Oh, sweetjesus, not again! Oh! *Oh! *OOOOOHHHHHH*!!"

"You know, this is an insult right here," Sarah said. "Every time that little tramp squeals, it's an insult to the two of us sitting here."

"I know, Sarah," Daphne sighed.

"And you just keep on taking it." Sarah clucked her tongue, grabbed the magic marker, and started taking her aggression out on the sign.

Daphne didn't know what to do. Sarah was right, but Daphne just couldn't bring herself to take action. She took a carrot from the bowl on the table and stuck the tip in her mouth. As she pondered over what was happening, what Sarah had just said, she ran her tongue around the tip of the carrot without biting it. Actually, she had never kept carrots in the house until she started craving them a few days ago. But she always took her time eating them, spending quite a bit of time just slowly running her tongue around and around the end.

"Oh, god, I feel like a woman," came a voice from the bottom of the stairs.

Daphne and Sarah looked over to see Patricia standing there, leaning on the banister, dressed in a white nightgown, her breasts clearly visible through the sheer top.

"That's my nightgown!" Daphne told her.

"Well, I needed *something* to wear. Although I suppose I could take it off now for you if you really want."

"Well, I normally wouldn't. I mean, I don't do things like that. But he was doing something else at the time, licking me somewhere, and before I knew it, he had been fingering my butthole for several seconds, and it just felt so, oh man!, so good that I couldn't get the words out to tell him to stop. You know? So he kept on going. And that was one of those times that I just passed out, it felt so good."

"I need to take a stand sometime," Daphne said a little louder. "Sarah, you're right, you know that?"

"Yeah," Sarah said distractedly, sliding her chair back and standing up.

"I mean, you're right. He doesn't own this house. And he certainly doesn't own me or my family. For David's sake this can't continue going... Sarah, where are you going?"

Sarah stood at the doorway to the kitchen. "I was just... uhm... I just need to..." She shut her mouth and shrugged her shoulders.

"Sarah!" Daphne gasped. "You're not... you are! You're going to go up to him! Just like he told you to! Sarah! Where are your... how could you?!"

"Oh, I'm not listening to him! I'm..." Sarah said, then opened and shut her mouth twice without saying anything. "Daphne, I'm not listening to him. I just want to go up and see the sonofabitch that would have enough gall to even suggest something like this. That's all," she said, backing up towards the stairs. "I just want to see what such a sonofabitch looks like."

"Sarah!"

"I'm just going to look," she said, backing up the stairs.

"I give her two minutes before she cums," Patricia offered, sitting down in the vacated chair with her glass of orange juice.

"But how could she?! How could she just..."

"He just has this way about him." She drank several gulps of juice.

"Don't! Don't you dare!" they heard Sarah's voice from upstairs.

"Ignore that," Patricia advised Daphne. "She's just playing hard to get. Won't last, though. But she may try to go as long as she can without crying out. It would be a matter of pride for her." She took another long drought of orange juice.

"Ohsweetfuckingjesus!!!"

Patricia smiled. "But, then again, she may not have much choice. Like I said, he has a way about him." She finished drinking the glass of orange juice, then set the empty glass by the sink. "Well, I'd better get back up there. He said I could watch." She giggled and headed up the stairs.

Daphne stuck the carrot back in her mouth and began running her tongue around and around it. How? How could this all be happening? Sarah was so decisive just a few minutes ago, and now listen to her.

Daphne swallowed hard, then moved into the doorway to see what was happening.

Sarah was on the desk, her ankles up by her ears, her pelvis tilted forward to allow Grant's prick pumping access to her asshole.

Patricia and Grant saw her first. "Oh, look at that," Patricia said with a smile, pointing at Daphne.

Sarah wrenched her upper body around to see, but Grant held her lower body pinned with his hands and cock.

Sarah's eyes grew wide, and her mouth opened and shut a couple times before anything would come out. "I... I... Daphne, please... I just don't know why I..."

Daphne just stood, shaking her head, then began backing away, down the hall, toward her room, to lock the door and try to sort through all these things that were happening.

"What was that carrot dangling out of her mouth?" Patricia asked the other two.

***

It was ten o'clock in the evening.

Daphne was in the bathtub, her carrot in her mouth, her tongue slowly running around and around it as she reflected on what had happened today, on where everything was going.

The doorknob turned, and Grant stepped in.

Daphne pulled the carrot out of her mouth gave a tired sigh without bothering to cover herself. "Oh, Daddy, not again."

"Daffy," Grant said with a leer, "What pretty red nipples you have."

Daphne half-heartedly brought one forearm across her chest to cover her breasts, without bothering to cover her pussy. "Oh, Daddy (sigh) you're not supposed to be looking."

"I know, Daffy-Bear, but they're just so... so... are you cold or something, honey?"

"Daddy, how could you? How could you do those things to those women today. One was my best friend, Daddy! And you just..."

"Now I really cannot understand this. Here you are, griping at me, chastising me, when you're the one that's been collecting slutty friends. I mean, no proper lady would do the things they've done. You picked them as friends, not me. But you yell at me when they show their true colors."

"Daddy, they were never like this before!"

Grant grinned slyly. "Guess it's the old Blaine charm."

"Daddy!"

"Turn your back around here and hand me the soap," Grant said as he kneeled by the bathtub.

"What are you going to do, Daddy?"

"I'm just going to soap your back. That's all." She still looked at him suspiciously. "You seem to be upset, and a backrub always puts the mind at ease."

She handed him the bar of soap, and he began running it over her shoulders and back.

"Mmmmmmmm..."

"Feel good?"

"Mmmmm-hmmmmm. I guess so."

"You guess so? Well, if it's not helping, I'll quit."

"No. No, you can keep doing it."

Daphne shut her eyes as Grant began splashing water to wash the soap away. Then he began repeating the process.

"I just don't understand it. Sarah has never acted anything at all like that. She always seemed so... shy."

"Some people aren't always what they appear to be," he said as he moved his lathering motions from her back to her sides.

"But Sarah?! She is the most reserved person I've ever known."

Grant lightly, accidentally brushed the bottom her right breast, then watched for a reaction, but Daphne did not open her eyes. "She didn't fool me, Daffy Bear. I saw her for what she was."

"Mmmmmmmmm. And what is that, Daddy?"

"A highly repressed, stalled individual. When someone gets like that, they..." As he spoke, her slowly moved his hands to cup his daughter's breasts.

"Daddy!" she squealed, splashing around in the water as she pulled his hands off her breasts. "Daddy, not my tits! No! You... you shouldn't even be in here." She covered her breasts with one forearm and her crotch with the other hand. "You should leave, Daddy. You shouldn't be in here."

Grant smiled. "That's my girl. I'll see you tomorrow, then." And he opened the door and left.

Daphne settled back in the water and put the carrot back in her mouth. How? How could her friends behave like that? Letting her father just have his way with them, acting like they've never acted before?

On impulse, she pushed the carrot into her mouth, curious how far back it would go before she gagged. Quite far, actually. She pulled it out and tried it again. Yes, quite far.

But how could her friends behave like that, letting Daddy touch them in places and get them to do things that just... weren't.

Maybe there really was something to the Blaine charm.

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